


Opus Operandi

by MonkyRebel



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anger Management, Books, Domestic, Established Relationship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-11 23:43:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20162095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonkyRebel/pseuds/MonkyRebel
Summary: Tony was inquisitive by nature, so when his Loki's attentions start being spread between his books instead of him... Well, naturally he gets curious.





	Opus Operandi

**Author's Note:**

> This is my bingo entry for square N4, (Genre: Fiction)
> 
> I owe my sanity and love to Leikio, Nico, GinRyuu, and Senpup; y'all beautiful and I hope you find £20 on the floor.
> 
> I also consider this plain story as a warm-up for some of my crazier prompts, but please enjoy?

Loki always had a book. 

Whenever they weren’t busy bickering, eating or asleep, out came the latest read. Just in the past week, he’d gone through 6 different covers. They weren’t thin, and Loki never seemed to rush. 

Oddly, though, for someone with as much apparent enthusiasm for the activity, he never spoke about them. Whenever Pep finished a novel, she would gush for weeks. Weeks! But Loki wasn’t Pep, and maybe it wasn’t a universal act...

Besides, these were probably textbooks. _ Magical _ textbooks. He certainly seemed the type to read advanced thermodynamics as a bedtime story, and not just because you needed to figure out why something was exploding _ very quickly _. 

It wasn't just that he never _ gushed _ about them; he never even addressed them. Never mentioned ‘Oh, I recently read-” or “Oh, that reminds me of a funny little stanza…”. Not ONE of his many, many, _ many _articles had elicited the slightest outward interest. 

Only now there was a book that seemed to bother him. 

Tony sat across from the god. Takeout cluttered the table between their seperate sofas. In an attempt to act inconspicuous, he feigned interest in his latest stock report, eyes stealing glances whenever enough time had passed between them. Pep knew he never actually read them, but Loki didn't. The perfect plan!

Over the last 15 minutes, Loki’s cheeks had gone through 50 shades of flustered, and he’d shifted in his seat a dozen times.

Tony was, infamously, open for anything in the bedroom. If Loki wanted him to scrawl algebraic equations over his skin all night long, he would be happy to oblige. He’d even get a set of mulicoloured marker pens. 

But surely there must be more to it. 

Tony piqued, mind filling with scandalous ideas. Maybe it was a mighty tome of ancient sex magic. Naughty little spells for naughty little boys in late-night magic class, where all the teachers wear bikinis and the points don't matter. Well, besides, the pagans sure did like their moonlit romps in the forest. It made sense? 

But Loki had jiggied with horses and giant snakes, surely he didn't need an A-Z roadmap on the nasty?

He could ask, of course. Broach the subject himself, rather than wait for his aloof partner to start the conversation. Tony, however, was more of a self proclaimed sleuth, too much of a daring intellect to fall to such basic means of intel gathering.

So instead, he turned to _flirting_. He was the deadly black widow, and the lecherous Loki had fallen into his sticky, sticky web.

He tossed the memo aside, along with his hideous metaphors. The reports graph was going vaguely up, which usually meant people were getting richer. That meant happier. That meant he didn't have to worry. He stood, trying not to wince at the stiffness in his thighs. He was crawling towards old age, but he beat it back with denial and copious kale shots. He would start his master performance by getting them both a drink. Nat would be so proud. As he moved, he kept one eye on Loki's attention. Bastard never once looked up at him. 

_ Hmm _. Clicked the glasses against the table noisily, nearing aggressively. 

He held the decanter in the air, poised to pour, taking one last view of the situation. Loki had his back to him. 

He stuck out his tongue, and poured.

“Whiskey, Honey?” Finished both even before the hum of a reply came. Still not even a glance away from the pages. His blood simmered as he replaced the carved glass and took the whiskey glasses one in each hand.

Curiosity paved way into… jealousy?

Here he was, devoting all this time to his beloved internal drives, and Loki couldn't even spare his dearest humans curiosities. He took a sharp sip of his drink, rounding the bar back to their seating.

Tony stalked behind the sofa, putting the drink in his right hand over Loki’s shoulder, next to the discarded chinese carton. It had been good fried rice. 

This vantage point gave him obscured access to one half of the spread book. 

_ Damn it. _

That wasn't English. He didn't even think it looked Norweigian. It looked more like… 

Well he’d seen some of the artwork Happy’s niece had once given him, and it looked a little like that.

There were no phallic symbols, no Kama Sutra sketches with listed instructions on what phase of the moon to do what under. Not even a nipple. He was disappointed, but if it wasnt porn, what was it? Maybe it _ was _some kind of Asgardian fetish, and he and Loki would have to have A LONG TALK later.

Loki didn’t move when Tony rested his now free hand on Loki’s shoulder. Not even when he slowly started to massage it. He arched his back to get closer behind Loki’s head. The sofa was low, but Tony’s standards of behaviour were lower.

Loki took his finger to his tongue. Wetting the tip of his index, dragging it down along the page, turning it.

Who was the boyfriend here?

He snuck his head into the crook of Loki's neck. Teasing his ear with hot breath. His eyes found the newly revealed second page. Ah, he had hoped maybe this side had a translation… No such luck. He dug his thumb into Loki's shoulder blade. 

Loki turned the page.

He finished the Liquor with a yelp of his pride and threw the empty glass behind him.

_ I just smashed a glass, and he didn't flinch. _

_ I'm going to have to clean that up... _

With a surge of frustration, Tony swiped the book from Loki's fickle grasp. Relishing, but not focusing on Loki’s indignation, he stalked around the couch.

He flipped through the pages, skimming over each page with prying eyes. What here warranted such passionate attention? 

In desperation, he dangled it by the thick back cover by its corner, hoping a few raunchy pin up posters might fall free, or a lover's hand scrawled note tucked between the pages. He jiggled it a few times just to make sure.

“Why Tony,” Loki crossed his now unused hands atop his crossed knees. He looked… _ smug _. “If you wanted a copy you need only ask; I have an abundance in my library.” 

Tony dropped the volume to his side, pointing his other hand in an accusing stance right at Loki’s grinning little shit-face.

“You’re hiding something.”

“I believe you took it.”

Tony just looked at him and waited. _ Patiently. _

“If you must know, _ beloved _.” Tony bristled. “It’s fiction. A favour lent from Lady Sif. It has a theme I find most agreeable, though I find myself unaccustomed to the tone.”

Tony had, frankly, not expected that. It took a while to process, but once it did, it came out of his mouth like a choked laugh.

“You’re reading middle-aged lady smut?”

It was Loki’s turn to bristle.

“If you wish to phrase it that way. Although I’m sure it’s categorized outside your narrow descriptive.” Tony huffed, amused, and more relieved than he should have been.

Well, the feeling of jealous rejection certainly vanished.

He pulled the book back into his hands, holding it with greater reverie. 

“Well, don't let me get in the way of your mid-life crisis, Aunt Abby.” He traced the path of his temper tantrum back to the book’s owner. “But just so you know, I'll be in the bedroom. Naked. If that interests you. ”

He handed the book over, and Loki took it with distrusting eyes.He had now lost his page.

He watched Tony walk towards the bedroom, half stripped of his shirt already. He looked shamefully down to his borrowed tome. 

He did wonder how it ended... 

But perhaps that could wait?


End file.
